Submitting with love and loving to submit

Monthly Archives: April 2013

This is pretty funny ~ i just saw a new discussion posted in a submissive group on fetlife by someone named something like “SoloMaster” who says ~ and this is the whole discussion ~ “Who wants to audition for the role of my slave wife?”

That just made me snort with laughter. Really? Does he picture all the submissive girls jumping up and down, waving their hands in the air, going “Me, me, call on me!!”

So i giggle and i shake my head. His post is against the rules of that particular group, so i imagine it’ll come down soon. But it made me glad, in more ways than one, that i’m not seeking my one-true-Dom anymore.

It also reminded me of a movie we saw the other night ~ well, a porn video ~ that was rather cleverly done. The story line {yes, it had a story line} was about a young woman who goes for an audition to be in spanking porn movies. It was very cute.

And then it was pretty hot.

They did two scenarios for the audition ~ one was her as an employee who had been on the internet instead of working and is punished with a spanking. It had lots of the elements i like ~ different positions, counting, and just enough resistance on her part.

In the second scenario, she’s a college student getting tutored by her professor. Of course, he believes in “old-fashioned corporal punishment” and dishes out plenty of it. There were a couple of times in that one when i felt just a bit uncomfortable ~ after all, perpy professors have been know to prey on pretty students ~ but she did a lovely job of being awkward about showing her bottom ~ and if all the spanking got to be a bit tedious ~ well, Sir made up for that when i got my very own spanking and was put to bed.

Of course i don’t remember the name of the movie, although i’m sure Sir would if anyone wants to know.

We saw a couple of other spanking movies recently ~ yes, he roots them out of the internet for me ~ but they weren’t nearly as good. One of them was a couple who had just started living together and the whole movie consisted of her not following his rules for being “green” and getting spanked for it.

She would whine and whinge while he spanked and spanked. It was very ho-hum.

The next one was about two schoolgirls who sneak in a nun’s house and play with a Ouija board. Of course they get caught and spanked by the nun, and later by a priest, but it got pretty ~ well, i thought it was kind of icky. They made one of the girls kneel on salt ~ like rock salt ~ and pray while they beat the other one. And there was lots of “religious” stuff in it, which also icked me out, i don’t much like linking kink and religion, even though there’s lots of potential connection there.

So i was thinking about the differences among the three movies and why i so much preferred the first one. The back story on the first one ~ presenting her as this young woman who comes to apply for the job, and is nervous and eager ~ having her admit ahead of time {blushingly} that her boyfriend spanks her and she likes it ~ and because the spanking {although apparently a real spanking – not done with mirrors or anything} was consensual on a couple of levels ~ those things made it feel much better to me.

But ultimately, the first movie had elements of submission and power exchange that the other two didn’t. i may have a spanking fetish {ok, i do have a spanking fetish} but i also want that element of submitting my will to someone else. And maybe that touch of humiliation when they make you do something you don’t want to do ~ change positions, count, whatever.

My favorite part of the audition movie was when the employer makes her say she’s going to get spanked on her “bare bottom.” Her resistance to saying that, and his insistence that she say it, more than once ~ “Where are you going to get spanked?” “~~~ on my ~~~ bare ~~~ bottom,” even now, it gives me a little shudder of pleasure…

Mr. Jon steps back from me then, and i’m left bent over the bed, totally exposed.

“Good,” he says. “Good girl.”

Something inside me opens when he says that. My pussy is throbbing and i’m more turned on than i think i’ve ever been, but this is something different. Like the walls i keep up between myself and everyone else are melting.

“I’m going to put my hands on you now,” he says.

In some part of my head I know I have a choice, that I can say “no” right now and he won’t touch me. But right now I can’t imagine why I’d say “no,” so I don’t. I stand there, ass up and head down, not knowing what to expect, wanting his touch.

“This time,” he says, “I want you to say yes. I want to hear you say that you want me to touch you.”

I hear him, but it takes a minute for his words to penetrate. I have to say it? I’m bent over the bed here, because he told me to. He could do anything to me, he doesn’t have to ask me, he has all the control.

And still he’s asking. He’s not grabbing me, not acting like he can’t wait to take advantage of me ~ he’s waiting, making sure I want to?

And something else opens inside me.

“Yes,” I say, and then a bit louder, “Yes, please, Sir, touch me.”

He lays his hands on me then, on my hips, and I tremble. My pussy clenches.

His hands move, stoking my flanks, my ass, and I whimper with pleasure. Like a cat, I’m longing to be stroked. I wiggle a bit, shifting my weight, but “Hold still,” he says, and I do. A shiver runs through me.

His hands move over my body, firm and ~ and possessive, somehow. All my attention is there ~ right there on the nerve endings in my skin and his hands as they stroke and explore.

His hands part my ass cheeks, and I feel cool air on that skin which is seldom exposed. He traces the crack with one finger, and I think I could die with pleasure and shame and ~ then he says, “Wider. Open your legs wider ~ ”

~~ and the world has stopped, it is standing still for that moment before I obey, spreading myself wider open for him.

His hands move to my thighs, he runs his hands up my inner thighs, and I gasp, I am holding my breath ~ holding my breath as he gets closer to my hot throbbing pussy ~ and just when I think I can’t stand it, that I will absolutely die from excitement ~~

Ok, there’s really no such thing as “too cranky for kink,” i just like the sound of the title.

Five times in the last week, i’ve had to “share” a brief bio of myself, or introduce myself to a new group and tell them a little about myself. i now have it down to a cut-and-paste science.

This means that i have five new groups of people or activities that I’ve connected with in the last frigging week. That is too much for this introvert. I want to pull my shell up over my head and disappear.

Susan Cain, who wrote “The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking,” says of introverts:

“It’s as if they have thinner boundaries separating them from other people’s emotions and from the tragedies and cruelties of the world.”

That always sounds a little overly dramatic to me, but still. There is something to it. And i’m feeling it today.

And no. For those of you on the verge of asking if i’ve been thoroughly spanked and soundly fucked lately ~ the answer is ‘no.’ We’ve been busy. Both of us.

i was going to put in a quote about being busy right here ~ seems appropriate, doesn’t it? But when i google “quotes busy” i get stuff like this:

“Those who are wise won’t be busy, and those who are too busy can’t be wise.”
― Lin Yutang, The Importance Of Living

Really? What do you know Lin Yutang?

There’s this:

“Instead of saying “I don’t have time” try saying “it’s not a priority,” and see how that feels. Often, that’s a perfectly adequate explanation. I have time to iron my sheets, I just don’t want to. But other things are harder. Try it: “I’m not going to edit your résumé, sweetie, because it’s not a priority.” “I don’t go to the doctor because my health is not a priority.” If these phrases don’t sit well, that’s the point. Changing our language reminds us that time is a choice. If we don’t like how we’re spending an hour, we can choose differently.”
― Wall Street Journal

Ugh. That one makes me really uncomfortable ~ of course kink is a priority for me! THEY just don’t get it.

Or this:

“We all have the same 24/7. What we do with our time becomes our priority. Choose what you do with your time and do not lead a life by default”
― Patt Hollinger Pickett

Dr. Patt calls himself the Marriage Whisperer. Hmpf. What does he know?

At least this one is more non-judgmental:

“How come I have too many things to do all the time…??”
― Hiroko Sakai

And this one is perhaps my favorite ~ today, anyhow:

“Busy days galore…thoughts in a kaleidoscope of dervish dances.”
― Al Cash

Ok, Sir just texted me from our basement, where He’s watching Sunday Morning. No, i’m not kidding. Texted me to tell me about our plans for the day ~ which are going to be fun. And delightfully vanilla. Double vanilla bean.

Yes, i have another installment of Kinky Kastle coming in the morning… but now i’m off and running again.

That makes me feel a little foolish, because really, of course not, I couldn’t live out half my fantasy with my clothes on. But ~ “Nooooo, I’m just not, I don’t guess I’m ready yet,” I say, head down, avoiding his eyes.

He nods. “I can understand that. Let me know when you’re ready.” And he turns his back to me.

That takes me by surprise, and I stand there for a minute afraid he’s going to leave, wanting to tell him to come back. But he just waits.

I shift from one foot to the other, the sheet still clutched around me. What should I do? I can’t stand here forever. And really, is it such a big deal? I mean, he’s going to see me sooner or later, right? I know that.

With a sigh, slowly, I pull the sheet off, lay it on the bed beside me. “I’m ~ I”m ready now, Sir,” I say, and I can barely hear myself. He doesn’t turn around though.

“Put your hands behind your back,” he says. “Now.”

I react without thinking, hands behind my back, and he turns. I’m trembling, but I manage to stand still while he takes me in from head to toe.

“Really, very nice,” he says. He steps closer to me, and my heart speeds up. He’s a large man, in his 40’s maybe, wearing a suit as comfortably as most men wear jeans. His formal look makes me feel even more exposed.

His body blocks the mirror, which is a relief, but he’s a little intimidating, especially now, standing so close. Then he smiles ~ and i can’t help relaxing.

“Tell me what the problem is,” he says.

“Well,” i glance down at my outfit, “this ~ you know ~ i’m half-naked – well, essentially naked, i mean the parts we usually cover…aren’t.”

“Right,” he says. “Tonight, you are a submissive slut, and this is what submissive sluts wear here.” He smiles. “You’re lovely, you know.”

“But ~ but ~ i’m embarrassed.”

“Of course you are,” he says. “That’s understandable, I would expect you to be a bit uncomfortable. Nervous too, I imagine. That doesn’t make any difference. It’s not about what you want. Not now.”

He steps closer, and I can barely breathe at all. Smoothly, he reaches out and takes my hair, wrapping it around his hand at the base of my neck. “You agreed to obey the rules of the house.” My head is tipped back so i’m looking directly up at him, and i’m overwhelmed with ~ excitement and pleasure and fear and lust.

“I’m going to be your trainer this week,” he says, and I’m quite sure my heart stops completely for a moment, then starts pounding full speed again. “I want you to come to meet the others, and I want you dressed exactly as you are. Are you prepared to obey me?”

I can barely get the words out, but there’s no doubt in my mind, “Yes, yes, Sir, i am.”

“Good girl,” he says, releasing my hair and stepping back a bit. “Now turn around and let me see you from the back.”

Torn between awkwardness and some exhibitionist streak i didn’t know i had, i turn. “Stop,” he says when my back is to him. “Here, come here,” he takes my shoulders and turns me toward the bed, nudges me forward until I’m standing close to the bed. He stands very close behind me.

He takes my hair in his hands again, and my heart does that thing where it completely stops and has to reboot. “Open your legs, there, just a bit,” he says, and i do, just inches, but i do it.

“Good girl,” he says. “In a minute, I’m going to tell you to bend over. When I do, I want you to bend from your hips, right here,” and he touches my hips. i gasp, his touch is ~ i don’t know ~ heated ~ and i can feel traces of his fingers even when he stops touching me.

“I want you to bend gracefully,” he says, “Don’t just flop down. Shift your weight and move slowly, and I want you here ~” he pats the bed, “I want you down on your forearms here. Do you understand?”

I’m listening hard, I want to get it right, and yes, I do, “Yes, Sir, i do.”

“Good.” He releases my hair and in the same moment says, “Now, bend over.”

I’m thinking about shifting my weight and doing it slowly, so I don’t quite realize what I’m doing until it’s done. Then, there I am, arms down on the bed, open and exposed. I am thrilled and terrified.

I thought I’d take a break from Kinky Kastle ~ no worries, there are at least a couple more chapters ~ but i wanted to do the meme that’s going around. Borrowed this from faerie and kayla and a bunch of other people. Here we go:

1. He’s sitting in front of the TV, what is on the screen? It’s Sunday morning and he’s watching ~ i think it’s CBS Sunday morning. He loves that show.2. You’re out to eat; what kind of dressing does he get? Thousand Island.3. The most striking thing about his physical appearance? His hair, which is silvery grey and long.4.You go out to eat and have a drink, what does he order? Diet coke or coffee.

5. Where did he go to high school? At the same school his kids went to and his grandkids will go to.

6. What size shoe does he wear? Um, i’m not sure. 9 maybe?

7. If he were to collect anything, what would it be? Sir used to collect books, he doesn’t collect anything now and, in fact, avoids having a lot of “things.” Sir’s Buddhist, so he tries to let go of that kind of attachment.8. What is his favorite type of sandwich? Ham and cheese. Mayo, no lettuce or tomato, whole wheat bread.

9. What is his favorite cereal? Wheaties. He likes oatmeal too, and some other cereals, but has a special affinity for Wheaties.

10. What would he never wear? A kilt. Lol… Sir is not a fancy dresser, but He’s not opposed to dressing up. I guess, He’d never wear speedo swim trunks either. He likes for me to pick out clothes for Him – to buy, not like what He’s wearing that day, although He will consult me if it’s a special occasion.

11. What is his favorite sports team? Our local college team.

12. Who did he vote for in the last election? Obama

13. What is something you do that he wishes you wouldn’t do? I had to ask Him this one, and He thought and thought and couldn’t come up with anything. Ha. But He was quick to point out that this does NOT mean i’m perfect. Also, He thinks it would be better if we didn’t both procrastinate so much, but thinks we’re probably not going to change too much in that regard.

14. You bake a cake for his birthday; what kind? Chocolate. No doubt. He LOVES chocolate.

16. Did he play sports in high school? Nope, he was in the marching band. Back in those days, you didn’t have time to do anything else if you were in marching band.17. What could he spend hours doing? Researching things on the computer. And he does.

18. What is one unique talent he has? His memory. He can remember details of events that happened to him, including the dates and day of the week, from just about any point in his life. Not everything, but an amazing amount.

Jean and Sandra are there so quickly, I realize they must have been waiting. They bring a cart and begin unpacking items quickly. They drape a sheet over the bedspread – then direct me to lie down on it. “Out of the robe,” says Sandra, handing me another sheet. “You may cover yourself with that.”

“Tonight,” adds Jean a bit impatient at my hesitancy, and she and Sandra exchange a look I can’t interpret.

Grateful for the second sheet, I slip out of my robe and quickly climb onto the bed, pulling the sheet over me.

“On your stomach,” Jean says, and I flip. They work expertly, massaging me with lotion, working it into my skin until I’m almost moaning with pleasure. Then ~ “Over,” says Jean. Lost in sensation, I’m slow to respond, and a hand taps my ass lightly, “Now,” she adds. “That’s a warning.”

They each begin at one end ~ Jean works on my arms, Sandra starts at my feet, and quickly I forget to care if I’m covered or not. As Jean rubs my breasts, I quit thinking completely, and Sandra’s hands on the inside of my thighs are too pleasurable to worry about. Only my pussy is covered by then, the rest of my body is fully exposed.

When Jean says gently, “Do you want us to check now to see if there are any stray hairs? You can have us do it, or wait until the actual inspection,” I feel grateful and, “Check now, please,” I say, my eyes closed, totally relaxed.

I feel them move the sheet, but I don’t look to see whose hands are parting my thighs and examining the cleft between them. The fingers are impersonal, and I don’t realize they’ve found a hair until I feel a tiny tug, and ~ O!! O, ouch, but it is done by then and the fingers are exploring again.

Four times, then five, there is the tug as she grasps a hair and then plucks it. I’m surprised ~ and dismayed to realize that my pussy is responding to the pain by getting wetter. That’s ridiculous. But there it is.

“Ok. Done,” she says, with a light tap on my pussy. “Rest a minute while we get your clothes ~ well, your outfit ~ together.”

I am almost drifting to sleep when she ~ Jean I think ~ says, “Now, up with you, sit up slowly, I’ll help you. Time to get ready.”

They drape the sheet around me, and make me sit in a chair on wheels, like a secretary’s chair, while they dry my hair, use a curling iron to finish it. I feel so luxurious, watching them in the mirror, working on me. When my hair is done, Sandra says, “Now, clothes,” and turns my chair so my back is to the mirror and I’m facing Jean.

She’s holding a corset. I smile, delighted. I get to wear a corset! How cool is that? It’s purple too, purple and black. I love it.

They help me stand, turning me away from the mirror, “Don’t look til we’re done.” They help me into it, tightening the strings in the back until they’re snug. I realize that the corset leaves my breasts exposed, it lifts them up, but doesn’t cover them, and is cut high so that my ass and pussy must be exposed.

“Stockings,” says Sandra, “Just look at these!” They are black with tiny raised diamonds on them, and seams down the back. Lacy garters around the top. They help me on with those too, making sure the seams are straight. Then my shoes. Spike heels, with straps that encircle my ankles. I’m feeling incredibly sexy.

“Now, make-up,” says Jean, and they have me sit again, my back to the mirror still, while they work on my face, applying I don’t even know what from their cart. Only when they are finished do they have me stand and turn to face the mirror.

But I can’t, I’ve got an arm over my breasts, and a hand over my pussy, and I’m half bent over, trying to keep him from seeing me. i can’t help it, I just can’t help it. He moves toward me, and I cringe even more, but he takes the sheet from Sandra and hands it to me.

“Here, Little one,” he says. “Put that around yourself and tell me what’s going on here. Why are you trying to hide?”

Gratefully, I drape the sheet around me and stand up straight, trying to hang on to some shred of dignity. “Well,” I say, “I’m just not, I mean I’m not dressed yet. I just don’t want you to see me til I’m ready.”

He looks at me steadily and for a second I think his mouth twitches like he’s going to laugh. But he says, quite seriously, “So you’re thinking you want to wear something over that?”

But they don’t look at me, they look at each other and then at Mr. Jon, and I have the uncomfortable feeling that they’re on the verge of laughter. He nods to them, and says, “Don’t worry, you can go. I’ll take it from here.”

“The Road goes ever on and on Down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the Road has gone, And I must follow, if I can, Pursuing it with eager feet, Until it joins some larger way Where many paths and errands meet. And whither then? I cannot say” ~ J.R.R.Tolkien